Spitting in the eye of a spiteful universe!

Main menu

Category Archives: entertainment

Post navigation

Welcome back us. Strap in, faithful friends, because this is a long one. It’s been so long since we’d gotten our chat on, it was hard to reign ourselves in. So sit back, have a listen, then go do some stuff, come back, get comfy again, listen some more, then go do something else, then come back again, kill some zombies, find a safe place, kill some more zombies, wash, rinse, repeat.

All of Luka’s enemies eventually fall before her might. Here is the nemesis carwash being brought down, after which Luka walked over to the cleared rubble and salted the earth. Such is the fate of all who mess with the King of Gotham.

Ah, a classic public service announcement from the magic underwear people. Who knew a retired operatic tenor lived in that brownstone? When Skullard broke that window when he was a kid, he didn’t sing his confession to his parents – he just pointed to the puppet on his hand and said, “This guy has something he needs to confess.”

Finally, the big guy gets a little appreciation. Godzilla (still pronounced “Gojira” by those silly folks who made him up) has received full citizenship by Japanese authorities and been named a cultural ambassador. But, when you think about it, what else are you going to do? Tell him “No”?

Do you know Pingu? If not, you’re about to meet his grandfather. Way back in 1926 somebody sat down with some clay and went frame by frame to tell the tale of a bird spanking its kid for eating a whole fish. Ah shit, SPOILER! Oh well, there’s still enough surprises to enchant you in The Penwiper.

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Wanna watch all them great (and suckie) shows that we talked about? You’re gonna need a TV to do it, so why not get y’self one of them new-fangled Hi-Brite Imperial Television Consoles? This magical media machine has a 23″ screen plus Hi-Fi and automatic record changer all in a genuine wood cabinet the approximate size and weight as a crate full surface to air missles. Available in either Eskimo or Tahitian design, so it’s guaranteed to match any décor with the lights off.

“LUKAAAAAA!! LUUUUUU-KAAAAAAA!! YOU’RE THE KING OF GOTHAM!! I KNOW IT!! LUUUUUU-KAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

“Say Luka . . . I know you’re busy being the King and all. But I was hoping, maybe . . . a hand?”

This may surprise you, but we actually play the lotto. It’s true, we toss hard-earned money away on the “stupidity tax” every month just to see our numbers never come up. We’re never going to win, and we know that. But we don’t play Powerball believing that some day we’ll hit it and become stinking rich. We play so that we can dream. Dreaming is completely different than believing. Carrying around a pocket full of “what if” and “wouldn’t it be nice” beats being weighed down by chains of “someday”. We’ll take a playful optimism over impatient surety any day of the week, but mostly on Wednesdays and Saturdays when they do the drawings. And should the impossible ever happen and we do win, we can devote ourselves full-time to this podcast. Either that, or we’re outta here, suckers.

Galaxy Invader (1985) is as entertaining as a worn-through, sweat-stained t-shirt. To be fair, the shirt might be more compelling. Here’s two of the shirt’s finest scenes from a film otherwise meant to be avoided at all cost.

K is for the keyhole you look through to view this twisted scene from a little girl’s nightmare. Ketchup? Is that really what’s staining the floor? Is the kangaroo kindly kissing that kitten, or merely tasting it? And who tied a kite to someone’s pet, then opened the damned window? A kitten komes akross a krime scene, kauses kaos and konfusion, receives the kiss of death from a kagey kangaroo and is killed via kite by a kryptic kriminal. It’s a konspiracy, I tell you!

We have a theory that the only reason they made I Dream of Jeannie was so they could dress up Barbara Eden up in different outfits like the living doll that she is. Feel free to pause this and go frame by frame as needed.

Luka’s latest discovery on Netflix is the Canadian horror/thriller series Darknet. Check out this playlist of their short teasers and see if it whets your appetite . . . for blood!

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: “Hey, back off . . . that’s our bran, asshole. Don’t make us prove it, bitch. You don’t wanna know what happens to people who come between my girls and I and our fucking bran!”

This is our vacation week, and what did we do with all that time off? We ate at Panera Bread. “What? The Skullards didn’t eat every meal at Noodles and Co.?” Well, we still ate there as well, but we also ate at Panera Bread, where you can feast on yummy sandwiches and other people’s conversations. Listen in on our conversation and find out why we own so many wigs.

“You don’t know what true love is until you’ve had a child.” Damn, we thought we knew. Geez, we’ve been messing around with all this fake love all these years, thinking we were happy, just being loveless losers. We wish somebody would have told us. What other things are we completely ignorant about?

“You don’t know what happiness is until you know Jesus. You don’t know what pampering is until you’ve had a spa day. You don’t know what chocolate is until you’ve had a Godiva truffle. You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. You don’t know what’s gone until you’ve checked the inventory. You don’t know what drunk is until you’ve been plastered on Jaeger bombs. You don’t know Einstein’s theory of special relativity is true until you’ve observed the light rays of stars bend from the force of the sun’s gravity during a solar eclipse. You don’t know True Detective until you’ve worked out who the Yellow King is. You don’t know what porn is until you’ve watched All Natural Nurses 3. You don’t know how a book ends until you’ve read it. You don’t know what taking an interest in others is until you work for the NSA. You don’t know trivia games until you’ve played YOU DON’T KNOW JACK. You don’t know what other people think of you until you’re dead, and then you find out they never really thought about you much at all. You don’t know what to eat until you’ve seen the menu. You don’t know true pain until you let me show you. You don’t know what true poverty is until we swap your life with a rag-picker in Calcutta that we’ve had our eye on.”

We do know what true self-importance is because we’ve talked to parents of children.

Belial, the more charismatic of the two brothers from Basket Case, gets on his dancing shoes (after a fashion) and shows you his moves. He’s only seventeen!

Employers beware; your workers may be nursing a grudge against you. Why don’t you all sit down together and talk it out before somebody gets mad and complains to the union? Learn your lesson by watching The Hidden Grievance (1957)!

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: “Someday, Trudy, you’ll have a bun like this in your little oven, and then you’ll be a real woman.”

Where is the future we were promised? Sure, sure, it’s in the future, we get that, but what about that past future that supposed to be now but isn’t? Flying cars, unlimited life light bulbs and batteries, slammin’ one-piece outfits that glitter, all these things we were promised in movies to have by this time. Okay, movies also predicted several dozen world-ending disasters and societal collapses that we’ve managed to dodge, so maybe we shouldn’t use cinema to build our wish-list. But still, where’s our food replicators? Where’s the teleportation to Moonbase Beta and back? Where’s our universal health care? Regardless of whether they’re controlled by the laws of robotics or SkyNet, where’s our amblitory, humanoid robots and androids? It’s 2014, fer chrissakes, we should at least have holographic television and a chip in our head. What do we actually have, Google glasses? Well, we don’t. Only special people have those. Is that the way it’s going to work from here on? Only privileged people get to enjoy technological innovations while the rest of us sit and wait for next-gen hand-me-downs? That’s a future that sounds a lot like the past, actually. Revolution, we say! Let’s take back our future from those hoity-toity one-percenters. Give us our techno-toys and science wonders before we use some old school tech like bricks and sticks to take them from you. How much good is your Google glass going to do against an axe handle? The future is now . . . OR ELSE!

Inside No. 9 is our new fascination. Here’s the merest taste of what we’ve been gushing about.

Skullard mentioned that his favorite emotive guitarist was David Gilmore who has a birthday this week. What does he mean by emotive? Take a listen.

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: The High Tide Lounge – Where Friendly People Meet. And drown, apparently.

Thanks for coming to our home and joining us for our traditional feast of pointlessness. Since we aren’t geographically close enough to visit either of our respective families, we spent Thanksgivukkah with you, our podcasting family. That’s right, you’re family now. So what did you bring? You’re not still seeing the boy, are you? When are you going to quit that job and go back to school? Y’know, it’s such a shame. You always had so much potential and look at you. By the way, when’s the last time you changed your oil? You have to take care of things if you want them to last. Say, did you hear about your cousin Janice? Well you know she was engaged to that Todd boy, right? The Dempsey boy? Well, it turns out that he’s been going on line at his job and . . . hey! Where ya goin’? Hey, don’t leave! There’s still pie!

Having a hard time keeping track of the tangled relationships in Once Upon A Time? Click on this simple, easy-to-follow chart and all will be clear. Sorta.

Luka says that the best way to watch The Wicker Man (2006) is as a comedy. She’s not alone in that view. Here’s a great trailer to put you in a rom-com state of mind.

Ever wanted to explain Keynesian economics to a third grader? It can be done, and as it turns out, they did it simply and elegantly back in 1939 with a delightful educational short called Round and Round. (Be glad YOU don’t have to pay for your widgets with manhole covers.)

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Why do we wave at people on boats? “Bon voyage, mother fuckers!” Why should we care? We’re not the ones going on a trip. And why would those bastards wave back? Don’t they have boaty things to do like shuffle board or stuffing their faces or something? How about we all go about our respective business and leave each other alone. It’s not like we wish those people well or anything. “Hope ya sink!”

Another week has passed. Skullard and Luka watch TV and complain. There’s a lot of funny stuff on TV starring super smart villains and sexually promiscuous super-heroes. Oh, Arrow! There’s also a really loud lady downstairs and vindictive shaves of paper trying to cut Luka to bits. Cheer up, Luka! Just put a little ketchup on it and head on down to the mall for a slumber party – with SANTA CLAUS!

Almost a hundred years ago, The Axeman began chopping heads in the city of New Orleans. It is true. To prove that he was a scary as everyone thought, The Axeman even wrote a letter to the police which was published in a newspaper. Shockingu!

Hell, March 13, 1919

Esteemed Mortal:

They have never caught me and they never will. They have never seen me, for I am invisible, even as the ether that surrounds your earth. I am not a human being, but a spirit and a demon from the hottest hell. I am what you Orleanians and your foolish police call the Axeman.

When I see fit, I shall come and claim other victims. I alone know whom they shall be. I shall leave no clue except my bloody axe, besmeared with blood and brains of he whom I have sent below to keep me company.

If you wish you may tell the police to be careful not to rile me. Of course, I am a reasonable spirit. I take no offense at the way they have conducted their investigations in the past. In fact, they have been so utterly stupid as to not only amuse me, but His Satanic Majesty, Francis Josef, etc. But tell them to beware. Let them not try to discover what I am, for it were better that they were never born than to incur the wrath of the Axeman. I don‘t think there is any need of such a warning, for I feel sure the police will always dodge me, as they have in the past. They are wise and know how to keep away from all harm.

Undoubtedly, you Orleanians think of me as a most horrible murderer, which I am, but I could be much worse if I wanted to. If I wished, I could pay a visit to your city every night. At will I could slay thousands of your best citizens, for I am in close relationship with the Angel of Death.

Now, to be exact, at 12:15 (earthly time) on next Tuesday night, I am going to pass over New Orleans. In my infinite mercy, I am going to make a little proposition to you people. Here it is:

I am very fond of jazz music, and I swear by all the devils in the nether regions that every person shall be spared in whose home a jazz band is in full swing at the time I have just mentioned. If everyone has a jazz band going, well, then, so much the better for you people. One thing is certain and that is that some of your people who do not jazz it on Tuesday night (if there be any) will get the axe.

Well, as I am cold and crave the warmth of my native Tartarus, and it is about time I leave your earthly home, I will cease my discourse. Hoping that thou wilt publish this, that it may go well with thee, I have been, am and will be the worst spirit that ever existed either in fact or realm of fancy.

The Axeman

Whee! What fun it is to play in the water with surfboards and dolphins and crap like that. Let’s all enjoy some Aqua Frolics (1950)!

Today is Do Something Nice Day. So we’re doing something nice and posting up a new episode. What more do you want. C’mon, it’s raining outside. And it’s windy. You want us to put on clothes and shit and actually go out and do something nice for somebody? That would involve some level of discomfort, and how dare you demand that of us? Leave us alone, we’re doing enough as it is. And what are you doing? Sitting here reading a screen, you sponge. You’re no better than we are, you judgmental jerk. And having said that, thus concludes our good deed of the day. Pay it forward, asshole.

If you’re going to only watch one show we talked about, watch Breaking Bad. If you’re looking for a second one, try What Remains. It’s quite good.

Franco Scaramuzza stops (not “foils”) a robbery in funny pants. Watch him get interviewed by a chicken.

Don’t take candy from strangers, don’t hitchhike, don’t play near the restrooms, don’t walk down back alleys, and stay out of church if you live in Boston. All but one of these great pieces of advice are offered to a girl who by rights should have ended up in a ditch somewhere in this disturbingly cheerful classic The Strange Ones (1969).

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: Ah, the days of family viewing. The days you relegated one kid to sitting on the floor so you could swat the back of his head to let him know it was time to scoot up and change the channel. That’s right, instead of batteries the remote was powered by apples.

Well, the summer’s over. It’s time to drag your smelly carcass back to school or to work, with only the memories of your vacation to sustain you until next year. But don’t despair, dumbass! You can make yourself feel better by listening to Skullard and Luka regale you with their thrilling tales of mundane and utterly pointless adventure.

What kind of excitement can you expect? Birthday cakes made of ground meat and topped with dead mice! Quiche and inanely rambling old women with a grudge against Germany! Boomboxes plunging into birdbaths when everybody refused to dance now! Mysterious appearing and disappearing church signs! Unnecessary juice coupons! Enraging trip to the tire store while hubcaps attempt to make their escape! Posters at the Post Office! Endlessly shrieking children at Walmart! Quarters inserting themselves into Luka’s butt-crack and then later disguising themselves as batteries! Killer wasps loose in the bathroom! Weenie boogers!

During our trip to the antique store, Luka became charmed with an old sign reading “SPRATT’S CAT FOOD: Puts Pussy In Fine Form“. It comes in packets! They also make dog food and some kind of powder for canaries. Delicious!

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection; Our newest find is a funny little card sent back in 1921, from a young lady in Wolfville to her friend in college. It reads “Hello you sweet little bunch of sour grapes! Have they done this to you yet? I got your dejected and mournful puppy dog and was pleased to see him but I’m afraid he won’t be cheered up very soon or Lucy’s essay will never be typed. Congratylations Miss Fash on getting your Literary A. The tavern is an awful touch without you. Jean and I had to go up to it last night and rouse a little life in it. La la old thing – give my love to the rest of the gang! And if you’d drop another line perhaps you’d get a bigger bit. -Marion”

Why waste your Sunday morning bowing and scraping to your silly deity when you could lay about in your filthy underpants listening to What Could Go Wrong? This week Skullard and Luka blather on about many pointless topics that are sure to enchant you. Oh! Such as The Ug Couple, the Hot Guy Gas Station, A Touch of Cloth, the Virgin Mary’s birthday and three-way goat fuckery! Wow! Will the entertainment never cease? (Yes, it will. We had to eat cheese pizza and cream-filled chocolate donuts.)

Are you brimming with ungodly arrogance like Skullard and Luka? Alright then you smartass, why not try your hand at The Deck of Many Things? Perhaps you will win fabulous treasures, the likes of which you have never seen! Or maybe you’ll be cursed to an eternity of misery and disease. Whee! Uncertainty is fun!

Did we gush on enough about A Touch of Cloth? Well, have you started watching it? If not, more gushing is called for.

Remember kids: it’s no fun to fall down and get hurt all the time, and everybody will hate you! For crying out loud, haven’t you got any Skateboard Sense (1975)?

From Skullard’s Postcard Collection: sometimes spiritual nagging comes in handy postcard form. Go to church every Sunday! Don’t forget to dress like a total prat. Be thou faithful unto death. Death, I say!
And if that wasn’t enough of a guilt trip to get your ass back to church, how about THIS? Your non-conformity makes puppies and kittens sad! You don’t want to make innocent fluffy critters weep for your lost soul… DO YOU?!